Ishmael
by Capuan
Summary: No food, no water, just poverty and war. - What happens when everyday is a struggle to survive? A young Cardassian goes on the adventure of a lifetime to seek peace in the most unexpected places. - Mammoth adventure story of one man's struggle.


Ishmael  
  
If positioned at an exact location in the southern continent of Almata IV, one could witness the gleaming orange giant star in the sky for half of the planetary year without ever setting. The summer heat was always intense, so intense it was almost impossible for manual labour to be attempted on this entire continent. Before the breakup of the Cardassian Union ten years previous, wealthy subjects and high-ranking military officials booked their summer holidays here, the warm-blooded Cardassians occasionally put their own endurance of the heat to the test. The economy thrived as opportunists from the entire Cardassian Union ascended upon Almata to make their own personal fortune offering the wealthy tourists any service from lidos and casinos to prostitution in order to make their fortune. Alien captives were brought to build the ever-expanding resort complexes which sprang up overnight, many died due to the heat but more would always follow.  
  
But with the outbreak Dominion War, no-one had the time nor the money for vacation, and slowly but surely the crowds of carpet-baggers disappeared leaving behind their once proud resort in a state of disrepair. Following the collapse of the Cardassian Union Almata became non-alligned and was required to be self-supporting. Within five years half of the planet's mixed population of unemployed Cardassians and former alien slaves starved to death as different factions fought for power. Food was always short and shelter was hard to come by. As the years moved on, ethnic battles were fought on the desert sands for supplies and territory and taxation for the poor grew to fund the self-appointed governor's battle against the 'ethnically unclean' aliens.  
  
To say Almata was the poorest colony of the once powerful Cardassian Empire would have been a lie. If truth be told the situation was equally as dire on many other neighbouring planets. Stability was usually short-term, just the calm before the anarchical storm.  
  
The tenth anniversary of the liberation of Cardassia was marked by huge celebrations of freedom on the homeworld but here the event came and went without much notice. It was on that morning which Dregain Karkar went about his everyday choirs of seeking supplies and supervisions to keep his family alive for another day. Upon saddling up his faithful 'Tiree' and offering her the tiniest morsel of water he took out his most valuable possession - a Federation Tricorder. He acquired it from the belt of a dead Talarian slave he found rotting in the desert. His killer never stayed long enough to search the dead alien, Dregain never found out why but the killer must have had to flee suddenly. Killing a man and leaving his possessions was not the done thing on Almata.  
  
As Tiree bolted from the make-shift stable into the blinding desert Dregain programed his tricorder to scan for H20. From a distance, Dregain looked a tall and handsome Cardassian male, however up close his crooked nose which had broken many years before was clearly visible. His orange coloured shroud also covered some of worst scarring upon his brow and a few scratches upon his neck. Despite the hardships Dregain had persevered with life upon this rock, after all there was no alternative - Survival was ensured to only the fittest of Almata's dwellers. Like many of the planet's inhabitants Dregain's mother had smuggled herself and her child to Almata many years ago to make a few Cardassian Leks in order to support her themselves. For many years she moved from brothel to brothel making just enough money to feed and clothe herself and Dregain. Despite her job, she tried to be loving mother. There was no father figure involved, apparently Dregain's father had been a drunken commander within the Obsidian Order who forced himself upon a teenage girl on the back-streets of Cardassia. And for twenty-five years the girl was forced to do whatever it took for their survival.  
  
Dregain shot another glance at his tricorder, there appeared to be no water within a five kilometre radius. For he knew the small oasis which lay a few kilometres west of the abandoned town had dried many days ago, without the technology to harness the water in this area nothing would survive the long summer.  
  
Life on Almata had been nomadic for the last five years, to survive one must move around always following the water and food supplies. Unfortunately Dregain's mother had been ill for quite some time. Although she was not old it appeared that her health was fast deteriorating, Dregain suspected it was unlikely she would survive the summer. Nevertheless, she had endured twenty-five years of hell to look after him, she loved him and had always been there for him. Now it was his turn to repay the debt. As the desert storms began to blow sand into his eyes Dregain paused to ask himself:  
  
" How can I do any less?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Like so many others who read Star Trek storylines, I feel it was time to try something totally new rather than the problem-free life of your average Federation citizen.  
  
I penned the above prologue on a train unsure where it would lead (not the train, the story duh!). So far there is no concluding part, I thought I would post it anyway to see what sort of a response I got and too see if anyone can offer suggestions to where the story might end up...  
  
Please review with your suggestions. 


End file.
